The fight of your life

A loud yawn echoed through the decently sized cabin that the three Edge youths had been given to sleep in while aboard the Liontamer. The instigator of said yawn rubbed his eyes, rousing him from his slumber as he sat up in the twin sized bed he was sleeping on, before taking a look around the room. ‘What time is it?’ Quinton wondered, noticing that it was still night from the moonlight that was filtering in through the porthole. ‘Forget it; I’m thirsty.’

Holding his mouth for a second to mask his light chuckle at the prone figures of Roman and Taji, who had fallen asleep in front of the wide screen that they had been using to play the Playstation system that Jericho had aboard, he gingerly stepped over them so he wouldn’t wake them up. Even still, he had to stabilize his footing due to the gentle roll of the yacht, nearly kicking Roman dead in the face as he did so. After adjusting himself, Quinton exited the cabin to find himself in the lone passageway on that level, pausing for a moment to remember where the galley was.

‘Oh yeah,’ Quinton thought, turning to his left to follow the passageway to the open air deck. ‘Can’t get to the kitchen unless I go outside. Gee, wonder what Uncle Jericho does when it rains.’ Quinton rolled his eyes at the thought, oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t been the first to question that logic. The second he emerged from the passageway, however, a louder than normal creaking noise made him stop in his tracks, all feelings of fatigue instantly erased from his face.

‘What was that?’ Quinton asked himself, turning his head rapidly a few times to find the source of the sound. He waited for a long minute, controlling the pace of his breathing so that he wouldn’t make a sound. Quinton, although just as excited as his older brother and cousin when he found out that Raven and Jasper gave them permission to accompany them on their mission, was a great deal more cautious than the older two boys. He hadn’t missed the information of Ut Puri doing their best to run rampant on the isle, so he didn’t mind using a bit more caution, even if he was on a yacht a mile off the shores of Rhodes. ‘Alright Quinton,’ he thought as he finally let out a nervous sounding sigh. ‘No one can walk on water, and there are no other boats near us. We’re good.’

Feeling a bit better, Quinton took a single step further out onto the deck, his intentions being only to go get himself a drink before going back to sleep. Those plans were thrown out the window as a tall, shadowy looking figure dressed in a dark brown robe that covered the entirety of his body suddenly dropped in front of the youth. Taken by complete surprise, Quinton let out a sudden yelp before slapping both hands to his mouth to quiet himself. Despite the quickness in which Quinton had silenced himself, the person had heard him, turning their head to the side as they tossed the youth a curious glance. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” the person asked, with his voice giving away nothing else if but his gender.

  Admittedly, the ten year old Quinton did feel a bit of fear creep up his spine, but Quinton still was the son of an Exemplar, forcibly willing his fear to the back of his mind, replacing that with equal parts curiosity and suspicion. “I don’t think that matters much,” Quinton said, taking on a hard expression as he soundlessly slipped into a basic Seiryu-ken stance; the first that his father had taught him at the tender age of six. “I’m not trespassing. The real question is; what are you doing on this boat?”

The cloaked man closed his eyes as he smiled at Quinton, even though the youth didn’t see the semi-hidden expression. ‘Kid’s trained rather decently,’ the man thought, needing only a second to analyze Quinton’s stance. ‘Wonder whose son he is, Raven’s or Jasper’s?’ The man turned around and held his hands up in a sign of peace, not needing to be a genius to see that Quinton felt threatened by his presence. “I’m looking for someone; an Exemplar and his brother.” The man then moved to remove the hood that was over his head, but he had to relinquish that motion to throw up a block, narrowly stopping Quinton’s fist from rearranging his face. ‘I digress,’ the man thought as he backpedaled, continuing to block every one of Quinton’s strikes, finding himself having a bit more difficulty in doing so that he had first intended. ‘Kid’s really good!’

After another missed right hook to the cloaked man’s face, Quinton jumped in the air, using the momentum he gained from the missed hook to throw a spinning back kick at the man’s face. This time, Quinton got a direct, unblocked hit, one that propelled the man into the stern railings, with them man’s head hitting the top of the railing with a sickening thud. “What do you want with my dad?” Quinton asked with a stern glare at the man. “And how did you get on board anyway? Are you a spy or something?”

‘Now I see why he’s so riled up,’ the man thought as he gazed at the undeterred Quinton. Though the kick had been strong enough to cause problems for the average opponent, he had likened the hit to a slight tap on the face despite how far he had been kicked. “I’m not an enemy,” the man said, surprising Quinton greatly as he got back to his feet, in no way, shape or form harmed from the attack. “If I were I promise you would have already known.”

Quinton let out a mocking laugh. “I’m sure you would,” Quinton said, obviously not believing the man for a second. “But I don’t think I’m going to believe you until I see your face!” Quinton let out a yell before making his move, running at the man with both fists at his sides, ready to unleash pain on his chosen foe. No Ut Puri agent would get close enough to harm his father as long as he could do something about it.

 

 

As the smoke cleared from her ‘entry’ into Siobhan’s personal office, Saraya suddenly bent backward, narrowly avoiding a spinning, ten pronged saw looking shuriken whose diameter looked to be as long as she was tall. Her eyes widened as she watched the spinning blade rip into the stone wall behind her, its revolution not being slowed by the hardness of said wall as it disappeared out through the other side in a matter of seconds. ‘Just like the b*****d,’ Saraya thought, already in the motion of hand-springing backward to get out of the slowly receding cloud of smoke. “How about we stop throwing around the knives and talk like adults,” she said, eyes set on her opponent as the smoke gave way to a cackling Jynx.

“You don’t look in the mood,” Jynx said with a malicious smile as he spun his electric prod in his left hand whilst simultaneously spinning yet another giant sized shuriken in his right. “Not to mention that it’s not really in the best interests of my health to let you close enough to talk.” Jynx’s eyes glimmered mischievously as he looked at the visage of Saraya, who looked to be ready for just about anything. Not a total surprise to the Justicar; this wouldn’t be the first time the two had gotten it on. “You know, you look absolutely ravishing when you’re pissed.”

Now it was Saraya’s turn to let out a mocking laugh, appalled at the nerve of Jynx. “You really think that commenting on the looks of your highly pissed ex is going to save you?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “Besides, I know I look good; I don’t need an a*****e like you to tell me that.”

Jynx sighed as he lifted the still spinning shuriken over his head. “Worth a shot,” he said with a bored tone before stepping forward to launch the weapon at the Exemplar. Saraya’s eyes narrowed as she quickly adjusted herself, leaping over the instrument of death even as she focused her ki to her hands, where they took on a brilliant red glow as her nails visibly started to lengthen. Once she hit the ground, she made a mad dash at Jynx with her hands outstretched to slash at him, her nails now looking more like claws as they had doubled in size. “You don’t get to touch me today!” Jynx yelled, using his prod to knock away the offending hands of Saraya before spinning to deliver a backhand.

“It’s not like you’re gonna touch me with that speed!” Saraya yelled, clearly mocking Jynx’s slow speed in relation to hers. With an almost instant adjustment, Saraya ducked the blow, stepping back before closing her right hand in a knife edge, stabbing at Jynx in an attempt to impale him through the stomach. ‘And that should be-!’ Saraya thought, only to be taken by complete surprise as her stab did nothing more than knock Jynx backward a few feet, whereas she had to immediately draw back her hand to nurse her now broken fingernails. ‘The hell?’ she thought in surprise, giving Jynx a look that told her thoughts.

“You like?” Jynx said with a grin, reaching to his shoulder to tear off his shirt, which revealed a stylized gleaming metal chest plate which looked like it could have been worn by an ancient Greek or Roman warrior. Where Saraya had struck him didn’t look to be damaged aside from a shallow dent where his abs were. “State of the art titanium alloy, hardened with a few choice hard metals and my own ingenious applications, and you have protection that can turn back the hits of an Exemplar.” Jynx made a show of dusting off where Saraya had hit, not minding her irritated scowl in the least. “We’ve been through this before my beautiful succubus; you should know by now that I come prepared.”

“Fine,” Saraya said, schooling her emotions to keep calm as she opened and closed her injured hand a few times. “Your point.” Inwardly she was struggling not to figuratively kick herself; Jynx was Ut Puri’s lead scientist, a young man who had gained their attention due to his high intellect, as well as their most adept pure human warrior. She remembered once upon a time when Jynx, Siobhan, and she were teens; when Jynx was on the side of the Illuminati as they all worked to better themselves. He had always amazed herself, as well as pretty much anyone, with his inventions that were styled in a way to even the edge between humans and Sovrumano.

That all changed when the former Lamia Exemplar, her own father Ivan Steckzolfer, turned to the dark side. The powerful Exemplar used his mastery of the Lamia psychic ki manipulation to eradicate thousands of humans, seeing the human race as beneath him. Those he didn’t outright kill, he enslaved by turning them into thralls, humans who were bound to his commands as he saw fit. Although Skylar had personally delivered the deathblow to the traitorous Exemplar, the damage had already been done. Jynx’s own parents had felt the fury of Ivan, with the former Exemplar scrambling their minds to the point of clinical insanity. After that, Jynx left the Illuminati, soon emerging as a valued member of Ut Puri up until his advent to becoming a Justicar himself.

  “That it is,” Jynx said, spinning the prod emphatically before pointing its electric head in Saraya’s direction. “You know,” he said with a tone of near reverence, yet hate filled all the same. “Every day I remember what you Sovrumano have done to me and my family; how your father played with my parent’s minds as if they were puppets for his own amusement.” Jynx spat on the ground in disgust at the memory before glaring at Saraya with an even tempered rage. “It’s fitting that I get to personally dish out my revenge on his oh so beautiful daughter.”

Saraya took a deep breath as she gave Jynx a look of pity. “You can’t blame an entire race of innocent people for one person’s mistake,” she said as the two started to circle each other, neither willing to be the first to throw an attack against their equally skilled opponent. “Nor can you use your personal pain to justify what you’ve done here!” She lost her cool for a split second as a memory of better times flashed in her mind. “You were so kind at one time Miro-!”

“Don’t use that name when addressing me!” Jynx yelled, interrupting Saraya as he suddenly lashed out with fast stabs of his electric prod, seeking to silence her with that weapon alone. “You lost that right a long time ago!”

‘Screw this,’ Saraya thought, knowing just how dangerous Jynx was with that particular weapon of choice. If he connected with that prod even once, she was done for. The amount of electricity that prod could generate was enough to stun anyone, Sovrumano or otherwise, and all Jynx needed was a second to finish her off. ‘You’re not barbecuing me with that pole!’ 

With a sudden burst of speed, Saraya grabbed the middle of the prod, knowing from past experiences that only the tip was electrified, before pulling a surprised Jynx towards her. She smirked even as she watched the look of surprise wash over his face; although his chest and vitals were protected, there was a point on his body she could damage. As she pulled Jynx by the prod, she jumped in the air to deliver a charging head butt, nailing the Justicar square on the forehead as a bright flash of red ki radiated from the point of contact.

‘That should shake him up,’ Saraya thought with a grin, taking only a second to analyze the damage her self-created Zen Headbutt had inflicted. The maneuver was basically a head bash, except for the fact that she used the physical maneuver to not only stun her opponent, but to also force her ki into the opponent’s head to inflict further harm. She quickly made to capitalize on her advantage, swinging at Jynx with a right hook to the jaw, however, she was stunned once again when Jynx caught her wrist and threw her to the ground. It was only her battle smarts as an Exemplar that allowed her to avoid Jynx’s downward stab with his prod, rolling out of the way before getting to her feet with a confused look on her face. “That should have beaten you.”

To that, Jynx let out a deep, sinister sounding laugh as he kneeled, both combatants surveying the damage his stab at the stone ground had caused. “That should have,” he said, equally referring to both warriors’ attacks. Where he had stabbed was now a small crater, the stone itself having exploded due to the sheer voltage of his weapon. “But,” he said, standing to his feet as he used his left hand to pull his hair back. “I always come prepared.”

‘The hell are those?’ Saraya asked herself, her eyes glued to the two small, nearly unnoticeable red jewels that were embedded into Jynx’s own head, right above his ears.

Jynx didn’t have to be able to read minds to know Saraya was interested in said jewels, so with a sigh, he divulged the information she was seeking. “After what happened to my parents,” Jynx started. “I swore that no Sovrumano would defeat me, least of all a Lamia. After years of testing and research, I created these gems, specifically designed to repel any outside energies from my own mind.” Jynx let out a mocking laugh as he regarded the look of disbelief on Saraya’s face. “You could say that I found a way to make your specific abilities a non-factor. Now,” he said, spinning his prod once more as he prepared to engage Saraya yet again. “Shall we dance my sweet succubus, just one last time before I rip your heart from its beautiful chest?”

Saraya closed her eyes to control herself, although in her mind, she was in a near panic. ‘No psychics, no ki,’ she thought, trying to think of a way to beat Jynx. ‘All I’ve got is my own skill versus this a*****e.’ Steeling herself, she opened her eyes, now ablaze with determination as she generated her ki in a different fashion, one that would empower her physically. “It will be a cold day in hell before I let you touch me again!” she yelled, resolute in her drive to defeat Jynx and liberate the Alexandrian church.

“You don’t get it,” Jynx said with a dark grin as he took off into a run, charging at Saraya with a crazed look in his eyes. “You’re not letting me do anything! What I want, I will take!”  With that being said, the two met again in a physical display of martial prowess, with the fate of the Alexandrian church on the line.

 

 

Quinton, for the martial skill that he had at his age, also had a number of significant flaws, one being severe tunnel vision once he decided to lock onto a singular target. That wound up biting him in the rear, as right before he got within striking range, he felt himself being yanked off his feet by the scruff of his tee shirt from behind. “I see we woke you up during our discussion,” the man said, finally having the time to lower his hood, revealing a wizened face with brown eyes alight with mischief.

Jasper narrowed his eyes at the older man, recognizing him as the same old man from Paralia Kafeneio earlier that day, before turning a wildly flailing Quinton to face him. “And you expected to do what, to him?” Jasper asked with a tone clearly telling the boy that he doubted him doing anything to the man.

Noticing his uncle’s tone, Quinton stopped his flailing so Jasper could set him down. “You know him?” he asked as he gave the older man a distrusting look.

“No,” Jasper said, giving the man a stern glare of his own. “But I’m about to, especially if he wants to make it off Jericho’s boat alive.”

A whistle directed Quinton and the man’s attention to the roof of the navigation cabin, where a fully awake Jericho and Raven stood side by side, hands crossed and eyes glowing a fierce brown and blue. “You got that right,” Jericho cracked with a thumbs-up at Quinton. “I don’t take kindly to pirates trying to board my boat.” With that, Jericho quickly threw a small pebble looking item at the man, who made no effort to dodge, even when said ‘pebble’ exploded into a long, thick green vine that coiled itself tightly around him like a boa constrictor. “You got about a minute before that vine sucks your ki dry, so you might want to start talking, now!”

Raven tilted his head back as he signaled to Quinton. “I don’t even know what you’re doing up, but go back to bed.”

“But!” Quinton yelled, trying to retort.

“Now!” Raven yelled sternly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. Quinton recognized the tone from the times when he and Roman had messed up at home, and knew that this was not the time to argue with the Exemplar. With a wave, Quinton disappeared back into the yacht, leaving the three adults with the bound intruder. “Well?” Raven asked, directing his focus toward said captive as he motioned for him to speak with a wave of his hand.

Surprisingly, the older man didn’t bat an eye, even in his current predicament of being defeated for all intents and purposes. He wasn’t stupid or crazy: although he had no idea who Jericho was, he did know that both Edge brothers were zoned in on him, which wasn’t a good situation to be in for anyone. However, he also knew that they wouldn’t hurt him, especially when he finally spoke. “Wow,” he commented lazily. “I didn’t think that the people I called for help would be the ones to do me in.”

Jericho had no idea what the man was talking about, so he scoffed as he looked to Raven for confirmation. “Can I kill him, please?” However, a low chuckle that was steadily gaining volume from both Edge’s and his captive had Jericho looking to each of the men in confusion. “I’m missing something here, aren’t I?”

At that, Jasper outright laughed before lighting a joint, taking a pull before giving the man a look out of the corner of his eye. “You got some balls, you know that old school?” He stuck the joint in the man’s mouth before waving Jericho off. “You can let him go Jericho; we were actually looking for this guy. I’m just wondering why you didn’t just say who you were then.”

Jericho sighed before manipulating his ki again, willing the vine to release the man before it receded back into the pebble it once was. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?” Jericho whined. “I hate being the only one who’s lost.”

Raven chuckled as he gave his friend a playful shake. “That’s the guy we told you we had to meet with once we got here,” Raven said with a nod, smirking as he saw the flash of recognition in Jericho’s eyes. “Nestor, if I’m not mistaken?”

Nestor rolled his shoulders and took a heavy pull from the joint before chuckling himself. “The one and only, at least from what I know of this island.” Nestor gave a questioning glance to Jasper before passing him back his joint, to which Jasper denied, procuring one more from his pocket. “You gave me quite the show earlier Exemplar.”

“Raven,” Raven said, smacking himself in the forehead at the title. “Just Raven. I don’t do titles; it doesn’t make me.” Nestor nodded, signifying his understanding before Raven continued. “What you saw earlier was me trying to talk sense into the head of the most headstrong woman I know.”

“Whipped!” Jasper said, trying to disguise his remark with a cough in a futile effort, to which Raven flashed him a glare as the other three men shared a laugh at Raven’s expense.

“Anyways,” Raven said, doing his best to ignore his brother’s joke. “You’re the man who has the best Intel for what I want to know about the threat here. Mind if you fill us in?”

Nestor shared a glance with Jasper before sitting on the chair to his side. “You’re too to the point,” Nestor said as Jasper took a seat next to him, both of them looking to care more about their smoke than the situation at hand. “Here, we tend to relax more. Calm yourself with some small talk before we get to business.”

“I like him already,” Jasper said with a grin. “I’ll like you even better if you can give me a better herb connect.”

“Marichouána,” Nestor corrected, using the Greek version of the word for weed. “And you just should have asked earlier; here in Rhodes, it’s legal for recreational and commercial sale as well as medicinal.”

Jasper’s eyes widened upon hearing that music to his ears. “Yo Rave!” Jasper yelled. “You should take the next fat check you get and invest in a summer home here!”

“You would say that,” Jericho commented with a chuckle. “This just became paradise to you, didn’t it.”

“Nah Jericho,” Jasper said in an obviously sarcastic tone. “An island in general paradise where I don’t have to worry about a cop harassing me for smoking a blunt doesn’t appeal to me in any fashion.” Jasper coughed as he took another pull of his joint. “Use your brain for what it is Jericho.”

“Anyway!” Raven yelled, already getting tired of the banter. “Can we talk business? It’s not like there isn’t a weapon capable of killing every one of us on that isle, one that Ut Puri may or may not already know about being here!”

Nestor sighed as he ashed his joint, giving Raven a cross look. “For someone who is supposed to have the patience of a saint you sure rush a lot.” Nestor raised his hands in a placating manner as Raven flashed him a glare. “No disrespect intended; you just need to release some stress.”

“Don’t even,” Raven said sternly, directing his speech at Jericho and Jasper, pre-empting whatever comments they had in mind. “Forgive my mood; just because I agreed to let the family stay here doesn’t mean I necessarily agree with it even now.”

Nestor shook his head as he thought about the current situation on the isle of Rhodes. “You have every right to feel that way, especially after I tell you everything that’s been going on here.” With that, Nestor began his lengthy explanation to the three powerful Sovrumano, telling them of the hells that Ut Puri’s manslayer Julian Draven had unleashed on the humble isle.